Ice by Charlene Hartnady

5

Penelope

I putone foot in front of the other. Small rocks trickle down the mountainside.

“This is such a bad idea,” I grumble.

Ivy is just ahead of me. You would swear that she was a damned mountain goat. She’s a natural out here. “Did you have a better one?”

“We just up and left,” I say as I turn around. “We should go back. They need me. My winter sisters—”

“I’m sorry, Pee, but you’re useless to your sisters – to everyone – in your current state.”

“Gee, thanks. Way to make a girl feel better about herself.” My back is starting to get sore, so I shift my backpack higher on my back. Ivy has one, too. If we don’t hurry, we’ll have to spend the night in the valley, and we’re not really packed for it.

“Do you need a break?” Ivy asks.

“No,” I grumble some more.

We start walking again. It won’t be long before we reach the valley.

“I’m sorry to be so blunt, but sugar-coating things is not going to help matters. You heard what Dottie said. None of our kind knew anything about the blizzard. We’re responsible for the weather, Pee. Where did the storm come from? Who caused it? It has to be related. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“You’re right. We need to find out what is going on so that we can fix it. The winter witches will manage for a short while without me. They’ll have to.”

I watch Ivy negotiate a rocky patch. I follow.

“They will, and we’ll figure this out.” Ivy glances back and gives me a soft smile. It’s filled with pity, which damn near crushes me. Then she’s got her eyes back on the slope.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” I tell her.

“Are you kidding me?” she laughs. “I was bored out of my skull. I don’t think I enjoy working in a bookstore. This is much more fun.” She widens her arms.

I refrain from rolling my eyes. Ivy goes from job to job; she hasn’t figured out what she wants to do yet. Although she’s a good summer witch, she wasn’t good enough to be accepted as one of the summer sisters. Something Tilly loves to rub her nose in. She’s, therefore, one of the many weather witches who work among the humans.

“Are you sure your boss doesn’t mind you taking a day or two off?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Nah. It’s not like I do anything of real importance. I won’t be missed.”

“Maybe we should have let someone know. That note you quickly scribbled probably isn’t going to cut it.” I shake my head, feeling terrible. “We might need to make sure that Tilly and Brunhilda are okay.”

“Relax,” Ivy says, “they’re fine. Brunhilda will grow her bangs back.” She laughs.

“It’s not funny,” I say. “Poor Tilly.”

“Poor Tilly, nothing. It’s called karma. Don’t worry; her eyebrows will grow back too. I’m sure she looks great with very short hair.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking about how singed her hair looked.

“Oh, my gosh!” I groan.

Ivy chuckles. “They were far too close. At least the rest of us had some sense of self-preservation. I could see on your face that all hell was about to break loose.” She laughs some more.

“That’s not very nice, Ivy,” I say, trying to stifle a laugh of my own, but this is no laughing matter. It’s a disaster. “I still can’t believe that fire came out of my mouth. Fire! Is this some cruel and sick joke? I’m a winter witch. Where has my ice gone? Where is the snow? I’m useless like this. If it hadn’t been for you making a raincloud so quickly, I could have hurt everyone. I’m a danger.” I’ve gone from having a prized gift to being a menace.

“We’ll go to the source of the freak blizzard. The place where all this started, and I’m sure we’ll find some kind of clue,” Ivy says. “I’ll admit, it’s taking forever, though.” She groans. “Are you sure you can’t fly anymore?”

“I’m sure.” I shake my head. Weather witches can fly. We don’t need broomsticks. It’s how we get from place to place quickly. How else would we manipulate the weather?

But now, I can’t. I’m truly useless. I hope there will be some sort of a clue down there.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, sounding defeated. I’m normally a fairly upbeat person, at least for someone who doesn’t have much of a life. I make the most of it. I’m a glass-half-full kind of girl. At least, I was yesterday.

“So, you really have no idea where the source of the blizzard is?” Ivy asks me. “Not even now, as we’re getting closer?”

I shake my head, trying hard not to freaking cry. “Nope. I don’t feel a thing.” Although I’m now convinced that’s the strange feeling I had when I woke up. I was still a bit groggy. I didn’t realize, but that was it. I’m a weather witch. I can generally feel the climates. I feel what’s happening, what needs to happen. I know when temps are too high and when they’re too low. I instinctively know how to fix it. All the season sisters work together to keep everything in balance.

“Bummer. Good thing you have me to help you. I might not be an active weather witch, but I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Ivy,” I say. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime, sis.”

More sweat drips from my brow. I took my jacket off an hour ago. A blizzard originated from this valley last night, and it’s already blown over. The temperature is steadily climbing. The snow has already melted. I realize something interesting.

“It was dry up on the mountain. The lower we get, the wetter it is.” I can see it further down the trail.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Ivy is frowning. She doesn’t get what I’m trying to say.

“That means that whatever caused this didn’t come from high, from up on the mountains, which is usually how weather like this originates. It came from lower down.”

“That’s why we’re going down and not up.”

“Good point.”

We trudge along in silence for another forty minutes, finally making it to the valley.

“This way,” Ivy says, pointing to a gap between two mountains. There are sheer cliffs on either side. “It happened down here,” she states.

We keep walking, even though I’m thirsty and my legs feel like lead. I’m trying to figure this out without being able to use any of my senses.

“That can’t be right,” I mumble. “A blizzard would never have formed here. Not naturally.”

“I’m afraid that it is.” Ivy’s eyes are focused just ahead. She points. “It came from over there. I can feel it.” We walk a little further and then finally stop.

There is a dent in the ground below us. It looks like it was recently made. Like a giant boulder dropped down. Only, there is no large boulder anywhere near us. There’s a fresh fissure in the ground right near the dent to the one side. Like a plow ripped through the earth.

I drop my backpack. Ivy follows suit. She takes out a bottle of water, drinking half of it.

This feels all wrong. I don’t need my powers to know it. I can see it clearly. “In order for there to be a snowstorm, hot air, containing sufficient water vapor, needs to hit cold air, which then causes the vapor to form snow. Add high winds, and you get a blizzard.” I look up at the mountains around us. “The storm would have had to originate up there.” I point. “Not down here.” I shake my head. “Warm air rises. This doesn’t make much sense at all.”

“Also,” Ivy adds, “it isn’t cold enough yet on the mountains. So even if it originated from up there…” she points, “it would be all wrong, anyway.” We’re both looking up at the peaks, which are far higher than the little mountain we just negotiated. Our rental vehicle is parked somewhere on the other side of that mountain. We ignored the “Private Property” signs on the fence we climbed. Then it’s a forty-minute drive into Stoney Heath, where we are checked into an Airbnb.

I rummage in my backpack, looking for water. Ivy tips her head, drinking more of hers.

One soft crunch is the only warning we get before a gruff voice says, “Who are you, and why are you trespassing on my land?”

I almost jump out of my skin. We were so focused on the mountains that we weren’t paying attention to what was happening around us.

“Hellooooo, boys,” my sister says, sounding all husky.

I turn, and wow! I think my jaw must drop open.

They’re big, and— I take a step toward them and trip over my own feet. There is a sharp pain in my right ankle as I fall. Just as I’m about to land on my face, I manage to somehow get an arm up to block my fall. The air is pushed from my lungs as I hit the hard ground. I make this strange noise, rolling onto my back.

Can’t. Breathe. Can’t.

My eyes widen as I try to get air back in my lungs. It’s not working.

One of the guys bends over me. He’s saying something I can’t make out at all. Not one damned word. He grabs my legs and crooks them towards my chest. Finally, I’m able to pull in a small breath…and then another…and another.

Thank god!

Then I am breathing normally. Taking in big gulps of air. Ivy is crouched next to me. “Are you okay, Pee?” Her face is a mask of concern. “That’s it…breathe. In and out.” She breathes like we’re in a Lamaze class or something. It would be comical if we were in any other situation.

The guy lowers my legs. I get a good look at him. He’s wearing suit pants and a white button-down shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, with the top two buttons open. His eyes are the most vivid green I have ever seen. Holy hell, but he’s gorgeous. My mouth is hanging open, and yet again, I am struggling to breathe, but it has nothing to do with being winded this time.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes, of course.” My cheeks heat. Why the hell am I so clumsy? I wish I could be graceful like the rest of my sisters. I’m the youngest. They were blessed with both height and agility. I’m short and bungling. “I’m fine,” I mutter.

The guy takes a step back as I begin to clamber to my feet. I try to put weight on my right foot and start to go down again. Strong arms reach out and grab me, hoisting me up.

“You’re not okay,” he growls, frowning heavily.

He smells incredible. His scent is all man – who knew that masculinity had a smell – with soap and… something familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on what that something is.

I realize that I’m gripping his massive biceps. I let go. His hands are on my hips. They’re so darned big that they’re splayed behind a good deal of my lower back. He looks pissed off. His eyes are blazing. His features are taut.

“I think I might have twisted my ankle,” I push out.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Ivy asks the other guy, who is also wearing a similar outfit; only Green-eyes over here is in gray, whereas Blondie over there is in black.

His gaze flicks to Ivy for a second, and I see annoyance flash in them.

Then he picks me up like I weigh nothing. I squeal because… What the hell!

“Um…you can put me down,” I say as he starts to walk. He ignores me, and we reach a rocky outcrop a few strides later – his strides are massive – where he puts me down.

My ankle is throbbing. My shoe is already feeling tight.

“Are you okay, Pee? Do you think you might have broken something?” Ivy clambers after us.

“I didn’t hear a snap,” Green-eyes says.

“You wouldn’t hear a fracture,” Ivy says, smirking. “That’s a bit of a silly thing to say.” She smiles but quickly turns sober when Green-eyes scowls at her. It must be weird for Ivy. With her great looks and lithe body, she picks up guys easily. Especially since she’s so chatty and easygoing. Her charms aren’t working on Green-eyes, who is still glowering.

The pain is getting worse. I carefully lift the leg of my jeans to get a better look at the damage.

“It’s swelling up,” I observe.

“Don’t take the shoe off,” Green-eyes says. “It’s keeping your foot from swelling too much.”

“Can you move your toes?” the other guy asks. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He’s almost as big as Green-eyes but not nearly as brooding. He’s probably better-looking, yet I can’t take my eyes off the other one…Green-eyes. His hair is tousled. He has a five o’clock shadow across his manly jaw. Everything is masculine except for his lips, which are full, especially the lower one, which is particularly plump. Then there are those thick, dark lashes that don’t seem to belong on a man’s face, and yet they work perfectly. He’s sexy as anything. I think he could be truly handsome if he smiled, although there is something intensely attractive about him because he isn’t.

I’m so busy gawking at the two of them – especially Green-eyes – that I don’t register what Blondie has said for a few moments. He asked me if I can wiggle my toes.

“Oh…um…let me try.” I wiggle them gently and grimace.

“Does it hurt?” Ivy asks, looking concerned.

“Yep.” I wince. Hurt is an understatement. It’s throbbing, and my shoe is digging into me at this stage. I wish I’d thought to bring painkillers. What were we thinking? We were so unprepared for this hike.

“It’s probably sprained,” Blondie says. “You’ll need aspirin for the pain. I’d elevate your leg. Go and see a doctor if it isn’t better in the next couple of days.” He looks around us. “Crap,” he mutters to himself. “What are we going to do?” he asks Green-eyes, who is clearly in charge. “We can’t leave them here.”

Crap is right. We’re in the middle of nowhere. The plan was to hike back once we had our answers or spend the night if need be. I don’t think I’ll be able to hike anywhere for a few days. Truth be told, we’re ill-prepared for one night, let alone more. I suppose Ivy could fly out of here tonight to get more supplies, but I don’t like the idea of being left alone. The more I think about it, the more I hate it. What were we thinking to just rush out here half-cocked?

Shit!

“Ummm…we need your help,” I say, looking from one to the other. “Please.” I tag on when Green-eyes’ scowl gets darker.

“I’m not doing or saying anything more until you answer my question; what are you doing on my property?” Green-eyes demands once again.